


Let's Steal The Show

by eddiewrites307



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: College AU, Drag, Drag Queen AU, First Kiss, Get together fic, M/M, Modern AU, Swords, boys in makeup, seriously need i say more, sokka is too pretty, the ultimate gay weapon, you know you wanna read it, zuko is a useless gay disaster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:06:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26284654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eddiewrites307/pseuds/eddiewrites307
Summary: Of course, Sokka managed to drag Zuko into doing...well, drag. Of course he did. Why couldn't he ever say no to that boy?
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 161





	Let's Steal The Show

Zuko had no freaking idea how he ended up in this position in the first place.

Actually, no, scratch that. He knew  _ exactly  _ how.

Damn you, Sokka.

Zuko didn’t know how the other boy did this all this time. He was itchy, his face felt heavy, and there was restriction in places there really shouldn’t be restriction.

He sighed, restraining from picking at his nails, knowing he’d just get yelled at for it.

_ Damn you, Sokka. _

~   


“Please please please please please!” Sokka widened his eyes, those damn impossibly blue eyes, staring at Zuko with the type of desperate air that was typically seen on little kids who ‘need’ ice cream.

Zuko took a moment to summon every bit of cold-hearted disinterest he had inherited from his father. “No,” he said flatly, turning back to his laptop. He had homework due in an hour, damnit, he couldn’t afford to be distracted by a pretty boy right now, even if said pretty boy was his longstanding best friend and crush.

“I’ll suck your dick,” Sokka offered with a straight face, before proceeding to dissolve into hysterical laughter as Zuko choked on his own spit. “Your face!” he cackled, falling to the ground dramatically as he clutched his stomach.

“You’re the worst,” Zuko grumbled once he had control over his breathing again, stubbornly typing out a few sentences as Sokka gasped for air on the ground.

“Okay, okay, for real though,” he said eventually, pulling himself upright using Zuko’s chair, then leaning against him heavily. “You’ll get paid! And it’s like, a few hours, tops. One night. C’mon Zuko, my boy, my homeslice, my main man, my -”   


“Sokka, I’m not going to be in your drag show!” Zuko hissed, finally slamming his laptop shut and giving Sokka his full attention. Productivity had been a useless endeavor anyway. “I’m socially anxious, I don’t dance, I don’t know how to apply makeup, and if someone tries to touch me I’ll stab them on reflex.”   


“It’s a great confidence booster, you can just do shit with your swords and the crowd will go apeshit, I’ll do your makeup for you, and the club has strict rules about touching performers without consent,” Sokka countered quickly, as if he had already anticipated Zuko’s reasonings. Which, to be fair, he probably had. He knew him well. “C’mon, you know Aang is my go-to, but it’s his and Katara’s anniversary this weekend and you know she’ll beat the shit outta me if I even  _ suggest  _ snatching him away for the night, and you’ll be a hit!”   


“No,” Zuko tried again, but his resolve was wavering. The image of Sokka doing his makeup, inches away from his face with that look of determination that was always so attractive, touching him gently...he quickly snapped out of that thought process, praying the other boy didn’t notice the flush on his face.

Sokka let out a high-pitched whine, moving to collapse on his bed with as much fanfare as he could manage. “Zuko, c’mon, help a brother out!” he groaned. “I’m begging!”   


Zuko hesitated. If Sokka really,  _ really  _ needed his help with this...he felt the last of his resolve slip away. God, he was so useless around this boy. “Do you promise I won’t look like an idiot?”   


Sokka’s smile was blinding. “Sugar, I’m gonna make you the sexiest woman on the face of this planet.”   


~   


And now here he was, shoved in a crowded makeup room with four other guys, wearing a goddamn corset of all things -- and god, was that uncomfortable, how did women do this for all those years? -- and staring at his nearly unrecognizable reflection.

His face was covered in all shades of powder and cream that Sokka called ‘contour’, his good eye was accentuated with more black than Zuko found strictly necessary yet gave him a weirdly smouldering look, and his lips were painted a dark red and overlined to look fuller.

He hated to admit it, but...he didn’t look half bad, scar taking up half his face and all.

The wig wasn’t too hateful -- it was fucking huge and itchy as hell, but it matches his real hair color and looked disturbingly realistic, and didn’t budge when he moved his head around, which was cool. The nails, or rather, talons, were fucking terrible though. He tried to scratch at his arm and nearly tore the skin open.

He was still staring at himself in something akin to awe when Sokka waltzed into the room in six-inch heels, all done up in blue and white, looking unfairly beautiful.

“Zuko!” he cheered, hanging Zuko the two blades he had chosen to perform with. “I told you you’d be one sexy lady! You’re too pretty without makeup to look bad in it.”   


Zuko was very grateful for the thick foundation hiding his blush. “You think I’m pretty?”   


“Always have, always will!” Sokka said happily. “You’re up soon, do you remember what to do?”   


“Swing around my swords, do some martial arts shit, act confident, and think like sex,” he responded drily, only cracking a smile when Sokka whooped with pride.

“You’re gonna kill it!” He wiped away a tear that wasn’t there and sniffled. “My little baby drag queen, off to do her first show. I’m gonna cry!”   


Zuko shoved him, unable to wipe the smile from his face as he was led to the backstage area, carefully sheathing his swords on his back. He heard his name being called, and took a deep breath, allowing his heartbeat to steady.

Like Sokka always said, if he was gonna fuck up, may as well do so with pride.

It’s showtime.

~   


Zuko stumbled off the stage, swords on his back, hands shaking from adrenaline.

Holy. Shit.

Sokka had been right, that was... _ exhilarating _ . The crowd was so responsive, screaming and throwing money for his every move, and honestly being referred to as ‘queen’ was kinda awesome.

“Dude!” And there was Sokka, running up to him, still wearing those damn heels as well as the rest of his outfit -- seriously, how the hell does he run in heels? “That was amazing! You were so good, like holy shit, I thought I was gonna lose my mind! I’m so proud of you right now!”   


_ I’m so proud of you. _

_ I’m so proud. _

_ Proud. _

Something in Zuko snapped, and before he knew it, he was grabbing Sokka by the front of his overly-glittery top and pulling him into a rough kiss that tasted of sweat and lipstick and  _ heat _ . 

There was a brief moment of panic as Zuko realized what he had done and moved to pull back, but then Sokka cupped his face -- cautious of the pounds of makeup -- and pulled him even closer, lips moving against his in perfect harmony as the beat from another performers song coursed through their bodies.

Eventually they broke apart, lipstick smeared to the high heavens, and simply stared at each other for a moment.

“You kissed me,” Sokka stated.

“You kissed me back.”   


“Yeah, I guess I did.” He grinned, that careless grin Zuko had fallen in love with oh so long ago, and they both knew in that moment that everything was perfect for tonight.

Everything was perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for zukosass on Tumblr, I loved this prompt so much lmaooo


End file.
